As Long As He Needs Me
by Dana E. Vassy
Summary: Scully confides in her mother about her love for Mulder, and why she can never act on her feelings


Title: As Long As He Needs Me  
Author: Dana E. Vassy  
Category: UST, Maggie Scully POV  
Rating: G  
Spoilers: Gethsemane, Redux II (slight) Oliver?  
Disclaimer: "Time and time again, I've said that I don't   
care.." But this time I simply saying Maggie, Scully and   
Mulder are not mine. No profit, no problem. Oliver is   
written by Lionel Bart, I expect the same courtesy to be   
extended.  
Feedback: Send me it, I've watched presidents die.   
menacing puff of Morley Now before I choke on these   
vile things, let me know what you think - good, bad or   
indifferent. scullys_no_slut@viceprez.fsnet.co.uk  
Distribution: Have it! Just tell me what you think of it   
and where you're putting it.  
Thanks: To Brie at ficsupport for starting me off on   
this. To Sonia Swaby for singing it so well at the   
Hey!MrProducer concert. And to Lissie, for being my best   
friend.  
Summary: Scully swears her loyalty to Mulder, even if it   
does mean a less than desirable state-of-affairs.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
I miss him so much when he is gone  
But when he's near me, I don't let on  
The way I feel inside  
The love I have to hide  
But hell, I've got my pride...  
As long as he needs me  
I know where I must be  
I'll cling on steadfastly...  
I won't betray his trust  
Though people say I must  
I've got to stay true just  
As long as he needs me  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
I straighten the rug one more time, and right on cue the   
doorbell rings. I love that my baby girl is always so   
punctual, it's something her father was so strict about.   
She greets me warmly, a muted smile on her face. Yet   
again, that huge raincoat dwarfs her tiny frame. Still,   
at least Dana is pretty enough to carry it off.  
  
As we move from the hallway, I listen to her platitudes   
that work is fine, Fox is fine, and that she has been   
eating properly. Behind that weary little face though,   
something is troubling her. I notice that her hair is   
not so well styled as usual, and her concealer barely   
disguises the dark circles under her eyes. Knowing what   
the answer will be, I plunge on and ask the question I am   
well aware she dreads.  
  
"So no young men beating down your door this week,   
honey?"  
  
It was intended to be light-hearted, a comment tossed at   
her as I switch on the other lamp. But when I hear no   
exasperated reply, I turn to find tears streaming down my   
baby's face. God bless her, she's still trying to fight   
them back and act strong for her mother. But I feel   
this time she might actually let those walls back down.   
So I do what any mother should. I go to her, and hug her   
tightly.  
  
It's what she wanted, the floodgates have opened. I'm   
crying myself, but why? Because I can't bear to hear   
the sobs racking Dana's body? Because I know it has to   
be pretty serious for her ever to show so much emotion as   
this? My own reason for weeping is insignificant, my   
daughter needs me.  
  
We stand for a while, as her hysterics abate. Slowly,   
she peels her head from my shoulder, wiping the remnants   
of her outburst from her eyes. Even with her eyes all   
puffy, she's still a more welcome sight than any catwalk   
model. I'm filled with this surge of pride every time I   
look at her, as I remember all she's done in her short   
life. I only hope she knows it.  
  
I move to the sofa without saying a word. Whatever this   
is about will be revealed in its own good time. Right   
now, I'll wait to see if I can help.   
  
That's the thing, every since Dana grew up, I haven't   
been able to help her much. When I tried to, it wasn't   
warmly received. Like sitting her next to Father McCue   
at that dinner party. I was being pushy I know, but   
isn't that what mothers are supposed to be? All through   
school and college, I left her alone in that respect -   
she had her father to feed her ambition. I was never   
disappointed when she joined the FBI, only worried for   
her safety. She's so independent, I honestly don't   
think she noticed how much it hurt me to be shut out.   
It's not a conscious decision, more that her focus and   
priorities have shifted. Dana always hated to burden   
people with her problems, preferring to work them out   
alone. Like when she started her periods. She knew   
what was happening to her, and took sanitary towels from   
the packet Melissa had bought. Only when I worked it out   
for myself did she tell me of her awful stomach cramps.   
She ended up on pain medication they were so bad, but she   
hadn't wanted to worry me. Other people might be   
troubled by this secrecy, but it wasn't a case of that.   
It wasn't that Dana was excluding me, she just didn't   
want to cause a fuss.  
  
And that's how she's always been. Unlike Melissa, she   
didn't mope about over every broken heart, or any little   
setback. Dana would think about it, then carry on as   
normal, trying to avoid repeating the mistakes. I think   
she gets embarrassed about discussing boyfriends with me,   
maybe because I have such a Catholic background. She's   
almost thirty-five and unmarried, but I'm assured she's   
not so innocent as my religious convictions would like me   
to believe. But she's normally so sensible that I let   
her work it all out for herself.  
  
Like when she was at med school. There was a   
relationship of sorts there. I never could work out the   
specifics, just that her social life was somewhat frantic   
for a while. She had too many 'staying over' nights with   
friends, and I don't imagine for a second that all of   
those were spent where she said. I can tell when a man   
is around her, she changes completely. But that must   
have ended badly. For the first time in years, I heard   
her crying at night. She cried herself to sleep, but I   
didn't dare to invade her privacy. I was there when she   
needed me, and she always knew it.  
  
She's ready to talk it would seem, and she joins me on   
the sofa. And from the look in her eyes, I know it can   
only be one thing. How did I miss it in the first place?  
  
"What did he do, Dana? What's wrong with Fox?"  
  
I've startled her, but I know I hit the target. Her   
whole body language shifts, the defensive poise coming   
back on. I put my hand out to soothe her, letting her   
relax as I rub her back gently. This is more trouble   
than I thought.  
  
"He hasn't done anything, mom. Nothing at all."  
  
Her reply throws me slightly, I was so sure. What can   
she mean? Then, I see it. I see the rejection in her   
eyes. He hasn't done anything, and that's what is   
hurting my little girl.  
  
"I just..I'm being silly. It's not really anything, I   
just needed to let that out. Thank you."  
  
"You're not getting off that lightly, Dana. You don't   
cry like that unless something is really troubling you.   
Now I have as long as it takes, and Chinese is on its   
way."  
  
"Chinese? You're not cooking?"  
  
Poor Dana is genuinely surprised. It's not likely homely   
mom to do anything other than a Martha Stewart special in   
the kitchen. But the surprise is quickly replaced by her   
upset.  
  
"Mom, did you ever love someone so much.. so much that   
it hurts?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you know how painful it is that you'll never have   
that love returned, at least not in a normal way?"  
  
"No, but I can see that you do."  
  
"Mom, I'm pathetic. Mulder is my partner.. but he's   
so much more.. but he's nothing more..And I just..   
can't.."  
  
The tears were back, calmer this time, but no less in   
volume.  
  
"Now, baby, I don't know the specifics. But if you   
don't see this being reciprocated, have you asked? Are   
you sure?"  
  
"I don't have to ask. I see it everyday, why Mulder   
won't ever love me. Not in the way I need to be. His   
passion is his work, and I would loathe myself if I ever   
tried to take that away from him. He's looked for his   
sister for so long, it would be plain selfish of me."  
  
"Maybe we all have to be a little selfish, Dana.   
Sometimes it's the only way to make ourselves happy. But   
I think I understand that you wouldn't be happy that way   
either. That your conscience won't let you pursue this.   
I feel terrible for you, it's a tough position to be in.  
"Perhaps, sweetheart, it's time to step away. Haven't   
you endured enough pain, without a broken heart on top of   
it all?"  
  
She considers what I've said. It must be almost   
appealing; she's obviously suffering, and escape is a   
great solution to that. But when she turns once more to   
me, I see why she cannot. And she never will.  
  
"I can't leave him. He needs me. And, in my own way,   
I need him. To walk away now would be um, I can't. I   
just can't. And more than that, I won't. And as long as   
he wants me there, it's where I want to be. By his   
side."  
  
Her courage stuns me. This is braver than quitting a   
medical career, or fighting with Bill Junior. To give up   
any last chance she had, all to stay with the man she   
loves. And to have nothing in return. But she'll have   
plenty in return. Feeling as though she belongs, a   
worthy occupation, and being close to someone she cares   
for. It might not be a conventional situation, but the   
beliefs behind it are something we all treasure.  
  
"It could be a lonely life Dana. What about family,   
your own family? Are you ready to give up on that   
completely?"  
  
"I can't have children, mom. I believe everything   
happens for a reason, you taught me that. And with my   
lifestyle, I don't have time for a husband, it wouldn't   
be fair on anyone. So instead, I have my work to fill   
the space in my life. I can be happy, it was just tough   
having to accept this. I'll be fine."  
  
I pull her into another hug. No more words for tonight.   
She's said what she had to, and I'm glad she could say it   
to me. And I'll be there no matter what, to make sure   
she does cope with it all. I have every faith that she   
will. Dana is a fighter, and I've never seen her   
defeated, not even by cancer. Fox will take good care of   
her, even if he'll never actually be my son-in-law. I   
suppose all I can hope for, as her mother, is that she   
does what is best for her. And this must be it.  
  
I wish her every happiness, she certainly deserves it.  
  
  



End file.
